Sunday, January 26, 2014

When
the news broke that a remake was in the works, my initial response was
something along the lines of the sound you make when you accidentally hit
yourself below the belt. You know what I’m talking about fellas. Sometimes you
get a little carried away when you’re talking with your hands and bad things
happen.

I grew
up with “Robocop.” That’s an absolutely
terrifying thought considering the bone-numbingly graphic things that take
place between the opening and closing credits of that movie, but it’s true.

I was
allowed to watch people get melted by toxic waste, get torn to shreds by
machine guns and have their arms shot off at close, bloody range, as long as I promised
I didn’t say any of the bad words.

Also, I
had all the toys.

Sure,
my beloved parents’ priorities may have been slightly askew, but I never turned
into a serial killer or even just a regular killer. So if you’re looking for a
case study to prove that media violence doesn’t lead to real world violence, get
at me dawg.

Anyway,
that shiny metal so and so (happy mom and dad?) still holds a special place in
my heart, so I wasn’t thrilled with the notion of a remake. Some
things are best left alone.

Casting
news began to filter out and my ears perked up the way a dog’s would if it
heard a dinosaur skeleton fall apart in a museum.

Sunday, January 19, 2014

For one thing, it knows its way
around a good bedtime story. But beyond that, if you ask Monster, there is
literally nothing you can’t do.

You want to be a cowboy? Of course
you can. What about an astronaut? You betcha.

Even if by the very make-up of your
DNA you lack the skills required to hold a job, Monster still has the upmost
confidence in you.

Say for example, you want to be a
cowboy, but you’re fiercely allergic to cows, denim, wide-brimmed hats and
rugged handsomeness. Monster doesn’t care. Monster wants you to follow your
cowboy dreams no matter what god or your genes have to say about it.

As part of its efforts to help
users find jobs, Monster likes to send out emails every day with a list of jobs
it assumes you’d be perfect for.

The only problem with that is
Monster’s motherly inability to filter out jobs that users are in no way
qualified for. The results of that design flaw can be equal parts funny and depressing,
with a heavy-helping of confusion worked in.

Let’s take a look at the ten most
bizarre recommendations I’ve gotten recently from Monster.

VP National Sales, Mid-Atlantic
Territory. If there’s one thing don’t want me doing, it’s selling things. Just
ask Blockbuster how putting me in charge of selling stuff worked out for it.
And that VP title? That’s a surefire way to put your company out of business.

Instrumentation & Calibration
Tech II. I have no idea what this even means, however, I was encouraged by the
II in there. At least Monster had the good sense not to ask me to pursue a VP
of Instrumentation and Calibration position. Not yet anyway.

I know
nothing about cars or how they work. If I opened the hood of my car and saw a
team of hamsters in tracks suits poised on wheels, waiting for a larger hamster
holding a tiny pistol to pull the trigger, I would not be surprised.

However, getting your car repaired
is very expensive. So anytime my car has an issue that seems doable, like it
needs gas or oil or hamster food, well, I’ll roll up my sleeves, tuck my pant
legs into my socks and give it a whirl.

Maybe it appeals to that
prehistoric part of a man’s brain. The part that gets mocked on network sitcoms
because it refuses to ask for directions, preferring rather to starve to death
on America’s interstate system on its own merit, then find shelter with the
help of another person.

That’s also the same part of a
caveman’s brain that, when his foot-powered car broke, insisted on popping the
hood and taking a look-see.

Now cars and caveman culture may
not be my strong suits, but that doesn’t stop me from trying.